Welcome to Perfection
by killer cereal
Summary: Underground monsters threaten the peaceful town of Perfection. Can the townspeople band together and stop squabbling long enough to survive? Tremors!Brittana au
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to Perfection**

Population - 10/11

The small town of Perfection, Nevada isn't in any way a town at all. The only place in Perfection Valley populated by more than two people is affectionately known by its residents as the smallest town in the West, but it is, in fact, a store, two trailers, a sheep station and two houses. Two of the population lived up on the hill above the town so they shouldn't really count at all. This was a hotly debated topic at the local council meeting once a month, much to the dismay of six out of the eight official councillors and the two guest councillors. (All guests are invited – there's not a lot to do in the town okay?) The argument included whether or not non humans should be included as residents. As of today's date a consensus has still not yet been reached.  
The focal point and hub of the tiny community was Lopez General Stores. Smack dab on the main road. The only road. Apart from the track leading to the rubbish dump. What came first, the store or the town? Nobody knows. What we do know is the store is the source of everything in the town; groceries, hardware, clothing, top shelf restricted items and to the right person for the right price certain chemicals in illegal proportions. But you don't need to know that.

Santana Lopez; proprietor, head chef, barkeep, manager, postal service official, cleaner, shelf stacker, till jockey, accountant and local businesswoman, looked up at the jingling sound of the bell over the door. To her surprise a man in a black suit (highly inappropriate for desert climes) and black lensed sunglasses (slightly more appropriate for desert climes) looked around sharply then marched over to the counter. Behind him an uncommonly shiny black SUV (uncommon for these parts, who has a black car in the desert? And bothers to keep it shiny?) was visible through the screen door and another man stood next to it looking around the town with a scowl. They had matching buzzcuts and stood with their legs far enough apart that it appeared as though they were very likely concealing weapons in uncomfortable places.

"Good morning, sir. Welcome to Perfection. Not every day we have a visitor I don't know. You need gas?"

"No," the man replied abruptly.

"I see." Santana raised an eyebrow, a warning sign to anyone acquainted with her. "You must be here for our Lopez legendary breakfast then. Finest breakfast this side of the Rockies."

"Have you seen this woman?" The suit pulled a print out of a mugshot from inside his jacket, his shoulder holster visible for a moment, and slid it over the counter to face Santana. A young blonde-haired blue-eyed woman smirked up at her wearing an MIT hoodie and casually wielding a placard with her date of arrest and arrest number. She was officially five foot eight inches tall.

Santana let out a slow whistle as she picked up the paper and inspected it with interest. Suddenly aware of the scrutiny she was under she dropped the photo back on the counter and smiled.

"Hot damn. Does my future wife have a name?" She asked with an appreciative grin.

"Brittany Susan Pierce."

"And you are?..." Santana asked. "Her stalker?"

"That's classified. Do you know her?"

Santana's face scrunched up and she tapped her finger to her temple appearing deep in thought. "Hmmm, I guess you'll find that's classified as well."

"Listen, I just need to know if you have seen this woman." He made a move as though to snatch the paper up again but Santana slid it out of his reach with a glare.

"You know what, Sargent Squinty McCreeper? As if it wasn't bad enough that it's six thirty in the morning and I have done my best to be civil at this ungodly hour, the breakfast rush is due here any minute and I haven't even slaughtered the entire pig it will take to feed them."  
The morning rush consisted of Noah Puckerman and Finn Hudson who ate enough for seven people between them.  
"And you have the nerve to come in to my store wearing your sunglasses indoors, which by the way I'm not sure you're aware that indicates some deep seated insecurities, and shove an extremely distracting picture of Prisoner Cell Block Goddess in my face without so much as a please and then," she paused for a breath. The man took a small step backward. "You don't even buy anything…"

The man huffed, rather unprofessionally, Santana thought.

"Fine. I'll take a granola bar," he slammed a bar down on the counter off the full box next to the cash register.

"I feel morally obligated to inform you that this is vegan granola bar and I have been not very reliably assured that it tastes like sand and sawdust stuck together with earwax." The man was visibly repulsed even behind the barrier of his sunglasses. Santana continued, "I don't know how true that is because if it had earwax in then surely it couldn't be considered vegan. You want one for your buddy?"

He picked up another bar and placed it next to the first.

"Have you seen this woman?"

"…"

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled couple of notes. "Please."

"Sure I have." Santana admitted. The suit perked up. "Every night in my dreams."

The man's face twitched but before he could respond Santana continued.

"Listen, Fed-Face. Serious talk now. I have lived here for ten years and I know everyone around these parts. They all come through my store. I'm the only source of sour patch kids for a hundred and fifty miles. If she was in the area, I'd know. And I promise you, I'd remember a face like that. What do you want her for anyway?"

"That's not your concern."

"Sure it is. She might show up here as you seem to think she's in the area. Can't be too careful these days. Bandits, outlaws, show-tune singers, marauders… anyone could just rock up. Is she dangerous?" Santana asked as she reached below the counter and pulled out her favourite shotgun. She placed it on the counter and ran a hand along it lovingly. Behind his sunglasses the man visibly paled.

"She's not dangerous to our knowledge. We were hoping she would help us with our enquiries and uhh…" he coughed. "I hope you have a licence for that."

"Sure do. Not that that's your concern, Mr Nobody. And what are those enquiries exactly? Who do you work for? CIA? NSA? Scientologists?"

Ignoring the query, the man reached in his pocket and pulled out a business card.

"If you see her or hear about her in the area I'd appreciate it if you contacted me." The card was blank apart from a phone number in small print on the back.

"You still haven't told me who you are or given me any reason to help you."

"It's a matter of national security," and with that he spun on his heel and walked away.

"Hey!" Santana called after him. "If you do find her, give her _my_ number. And leave the picture."

The suit threw the photograph back onto the counter and marched out of the store.

"You forgot your granola bars!" Santana shouted after him. "Jackass," she muttered as the car sped off the scattering of gravel could be heard hitting the deck outside. She pulled the picture toward her and smirked.

"Why, Ms Pierce, you naughty girl. You are full of surprises."

* * *

An hour later and the breakfast rush was drawing to a close. The regulars, Finn and Puck, had been and inhaled their meal and gone and only the blonde woman sitting across from her was taking her sweet time finishing off her plate. Santana watched her with interest while drying up some dishes.

"There were a couple of men in suits looking for you earlier."

"A couple? In suits?" Brittany looked surprised. "Were they getting married?"

"No, Britt. I mean there were two of them and they were all official looking. They might have been a couple though," Santana pondered. "I didn't exactly ask."

"What did you tell them?"

"That I've never heard of a Brittany Susan Pierce and was he going to buy something or just clutter up my store." Brittany gave a lopsided smirk. "Why was there a man in a suit wearing sunglasses indoors looking for you?"

Brittany shrugged then watched curiously as Santana placed Brittany's mugshot in front of the culprit in question. Brittany failed to hide her smirk.

"Is this a picture of your girlfriend?"

Santana snorted at the unexpected question and turned to pin the picture on the wall with the local notices and adverts and also to give her flushed cheeks a moment to cool.

"You wish."

"I do," Brittany admitted sincerely, then ruined the moment by waggling her eyebrows. "Because I think you two would look good together. Hottest couple in Perfection. In the state. In the country!  
Why do you have my mugshot?" Brittany asked curiously. "If you wanted a pic you only had to ask."

Santana rolled her eyes and continued to clear away the crockery. "Why do you have a mugshot? And why are you wearing an MIT hoodie?"

"Have dinner with me and I'll tell you."

"Tell me and I'll think about having dinner with you."

"Okay," Brittany grinned. "I got arrested when I was at college and it was cold. It was the hoodie or the rainbow poncho my dad knitted but the hoodie had pockets so that won out."

"Britt…"

"That's what you asked."

"That's not what I meant. What were you arrested for? And how come you never mentioned you went to MIT."

"Would you be dating me already if you knew I went to MIT?"

"Britt, that's got nothing to do with me going on a date with you and you know it!" Santana threw the cloth down on the counter and glared at Brittany.

"I know," Brittany muttered, "I'm sorry." She stared back with puppy dog eyes until she broke down Santana's glare. With a huff Santana picked up the cloth and began to wipe down the surface in front of Brittany.

"Are you a retired spy? A bank robber?"

Brittany chuckled. "There's only one thing I'm looking to steal," she smiled, leaning over the counter invading Santana's personal space.

"Ugh, not again."

Santana and Brittany turned their heads simultaneously to watch Quinn walk back out the door.

Santana turned back to Brittany who was staring intently at her again her chin propped up resting on her hand.

"So…?"

"So?" Brittany parroted. Santana reached over and pushed Brittany's arm dropping her chin off her hand. Brittany stood up and grinned as Santana asked.

"So, focus. What did the guy want?"

"I don't know, you sent him away."

"Are you in trouble?"

Brittany was still staring. "Definitely."

"Oh my god!" Santana threw her hands up and walked away from the counter. Brittany followed her.

"San, that pic is from when I was in college. I didn't do anything bad, I promise," she said earnestly. "I was arrested for protesting against animal testing."

"Then why were there creepy dudes looking for you?"

"I don't know, I swear."

"I was worried."

"I know." Brittany stepped closer to her grasping her elbows of her folded arms. "Thank you for having my back."

The door opened and Quinn stuck her head around the screen.

"Is it safe to come in yet?" she eyed their close proximity with distrust.

Brittany took a step back and opened her mouth to speak but the sound of half a dozen food cans tumbling to the floor across the store distracted the three women.

"What was that?" Santana asked as Brittany went over to check the shelves. "Did that cat just come in?"

"I left him sleeping in the cab," Brittany assured her, picking up the cans and eyeing the shelf thoughtfully. "The shelf looks pretty solid to me," Brittany murmured, testing it with a tug and nodding when it remained solid.

"Brittany, he is banned for life from my store, you know this."

"He was fast asleep and he has promised me never to desecrate your store ever again in this lifetime or the next."

"I haven't been able to get the smell of all the sardines he ripped open with his bare teeth out of the wood. I'll have to change the floorboards."

"I can do that for you," Brittany offered. "At no charge of course."

"You would?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't you ma'am me."

"Yes ma'am. So it's supposed to be clear tonight and I'm going to be taking the 200 mil out…

"Britt…" Santana admonished softly.

Brittany cleared her throat noticing Quinn rolling her eyes at them. She pocketed her phone and keys. "Anyway, I gotta get to work. Can't be late, the boss lady gets mad."

"No she doesn't," Santana looked bemused.

"Not at me," Brittany explained. "She gets mad at everyone else. She likes me. A lot, I think."

Santana gave an epic eye roll. "Well as I am the boss lady, sadly for you it's garbage day." Brittany groaned. "But before that joyful task, which I can still get Puck to do-"

"No. I'm doing it." Brittany insisted quickly.

"Or Finn…" Santana offered.

Brittany folded her arms and began to look cross which only looked adorable in Santana's opinion.

"Fine, fine. First, there's a package arrived for Sue." Santana pointed to the box in question. "Can you deliver it up to the ranch?"

"Sure can, boss." Brittany walked over to the large cardboard box up against the wall and inspected it.

"Ahem." Quinn cleared her throat. "What am I, chopped liver?"

Santana finally granted her attention to her latest customer. "Morning, Fabray. Usual?"

"Extra bacon."

"Of course."

Quinn took a seat while Santana fired up the frying pan. The oil quickly worked up to a sizzle as the bacon hit the hot oil.

"You're a little late this morning," Santana said over her shoulder. "Been catching up on your beauty sleep?"

"Didn't want to disturb anything going on in here."

"Sadly, there was nothing going on in here. Not yet anyway," said Brittany.

"Except inappropriate flirting in the workplace," said Santana, her cheeks pinking as Brittany responded with a bright smile and a wink.

Brittany let out a small 'oof' as she hoisted the package up onto her shoulder. Santana watched appreciatively at her flexing muscles and then dealt Quinn a death glare as she prodded her and indicated the smoking frying pan.

"It's not a gun this time," Quinn mused, as Brittany passed her.

"I think it's that drone she's been expecting."

"What does she need a drone for?" Quinn asked, bewildered. "We live in the middle of the desert. There's nothing to look at."

"Well that's not true." Brittany winked at Santana. "Catch you later, Quinn. Santana."

"Drive safe, Britt."

"Drive safe, Britt," Quinn parroted quietly and getting a face full of dishcloth for her efforts. "You two are disgusting. You should put a health warning on the front of the store."

"Shut up and eat your entire recommended daily cholesterol intake in one meal. And you have the nerve to call yourself a doctor."

Quinn grinned and picked up her knife and fork eagerly awaiting the culinary masterpiece heading her way.


	2. Chapter 2

"Why do you have Brittany's mugshot on the wall?" Quinn asked with her mouth full of breakfast. She gulped it down and frowned. "Wait, why does she have a mugshot?"

"Pfff, like you never got arrested in college," Santana said defensively.

"Uh, I didn't."

"Of course not," Santana muttered. "Some shady looking guys came looking for her and showed me that photo."

"What did they want?"

"They wouldn't say and started giving me a load of classified bullshit. When I asked Britt she didn't seem to know what they might want either."

"You ever wonder what she does out there in the desert? Just her and that cat." Santana shot Quinn a sharp look as she waved a loaded fork around thoughtfully. "You gotta hope it's not aliens. I went out there once and she-"

"Wait, you did what? You went out to her trailer? When was this?"

"A couple weeks back," Quinn replied relishing Santana's focused and incriminating interest.

"She never told me," Santana huffed.

"Didn't want you to get jealous I guess," Quinn said innocently trying to hide a smirk.

"Do I have to remind you I am the person handling your food right now?"

Quinn winced and eyed the plate as Santana slammed a second helping down onto the dish and scrambled eggs rolled off the side with the force.

"So? What were you out there for?"

"That's confidential medical information that I am legally forbidden to share. I took an oath, Santana, an oath as serious as a pinkie swear."

"Is she okay?"

Quinn squirmed at the genuine worry displayed before her.

"As much as I admire your fortitude and dedication to the oath of your vocation, Fabray, you'd best answer me right now." Santana shook a spatula in the woman's face.

"Oh my god yes, Santana. Calm down. She was sending me weird texts about heatstroke so I went to check and it was that damn cat."

"The cat was sending texts?"

"No, Brittany was. Honestly, I swear you lose your mind when she's around, anyway, your raging jealousy aside-" Santana picked up the spatula again in warning, "-the cat was sunbathing in a fur coat and overheated." "Have you ever considered a change of career? Perhaps interrogating criminals. The point is, she's got like scientific equipment set up all over the place. It was taking readings of something. I did ask but honestly I have multiple medical degrees and know some pretty complex technobabble and even with that I didn't understand what she said. What it boiled down to was she was 'monitoring the universe', whatever that means. Man, I hope she's not some UFO nut."

"What's wrong with being a UFO nut?" Santana demanded.

"Nothing!" Quinn said quickly with a commendable straight face.

Santana glared at her then sniffed. "Statistically, Quinn, we're probably not alone in the universe."

"You have got it bad, Santana. You know I'm sure she'd tell you or show you if you took her up on her offer to go over there."

"Mind your own business."

"Maybe she's a drug dealer, because who really knows what goes on out there in the desert."

"Shut up, eat, and get out of my store."

Quinn ignored two out of three of the demands. "You don't know unless you go out there. She could be distilling cacti or something."

"I don't trust anything you say. You eat bacon and eggs every day and think it won't do you any harm and you call yourself a doctor!"

"I'm on vacation." Quinn shovelled another forkful of bacon into her mouth. "Humour me. So are you ever going to tell me? Britt won't say."

"Tell you what?"

"Why she works for you and why you won't date her. She's head over heels for you and you know it."

"She owes me 579,331 dollars and fifteen cents."

"…" Quinn gaped at her. "I'll be perfectly honest with you, I was not expecting that for an answer. I was thinking like you're the daughters of rival crime families and your love is forbidden. Or you're in witness protection and a relationship would put her in danger."

"You watch too many TV movies."

"How can she owe you that much money?"

"She won the deeds to this place in a poker game. Then lost them."

Quinn set down her cutlery and interlocked her fingers to rest her chin on. She gave Santana her undivided attention. "One, where was this poker game and why wasn't I invited? Two, how drunk were you to bet the deeds to your livelihood? Three, who does own it?"

"I was visiting a supplier in Santa Fe and met Brittany at a bar. We got talking and then some people Brittany knew invited us to a game. My family is from Santa Fe so this business was set up using the bank there. I had the deeds with me to make some adjustments and hadn't returned them to the bank yet…"

"How drunk were you to bet them?" Quinn stared at her, horrified.

"Look don't judge me until you've seen Brittany play cards, okay. She was either cheating or counting and I challenged her to a fair fight and she still beat me." Santana pouted. "Damn queen of hearts."

"But who owns this place now?" Quinn asked, puzzled.

"No one, sort of. She won the papers but then I wouldn't stop crying and she promised to give them back because it was just a stupid game but she lost them. Lost the papers as in they're missing, she couldn't remember where she put them and she feels bad and that she owes me so she's working to pay it back. And this is to remain a secret okay, Fabray?"

"She followed you here," Quinn realised, her face split into the biggest shit eating grin Santana had ever seen.

"Quinn, don't-"

"This is the strangest courtship I've ever seen. Including those birds that dance backwards and regurgitate bugs. Oh, oh, oh, maybe that's what she's doing, some fancy pants prospecting for gold to pay you back."

Santana straightened up suddenly from where she was leaning on the table next to Quinn.

"I hope you enjoy your bugs in your scrambled eggs. Some of us have got important business-y things to do and I cannot stress this enough, Quinn. I must not be disturbed."

Quinn eyed her with distrust and watched as Santana scurried into her office and shut the door pulling the blinds closed behind her.

"Well that was weir-"

"Morning Quinn!" A clear sing song voice rang out. Quinn pivoted on her stool to behold Rachel Berry, Perfection's self-proclaimed artist in residence, followed by her friends Kurt and Mercedes.

"Where's Santana? We're here for breakfast."

"I ate it."

"All of it?"

* * *

Brittany's British ex-army land rover rattled along the road. Brittany scrolled the old fashioned dial trying to find a radio signal but as usual in the valley the signals were obstructed by the encompassing granite mountains. After a fruitless search for some top 40 or even some farm emo she gave up and pushed in her reliable lone cassette tape into the old tape deck.

Her companion dozed on the passenger seat oblivious to the bone shaking potholes and crackly old tape while Brittany sang along to Fleetwood Mac. The tape had come with the vehicle at no extra cost much to Brittany's delight and Lord Tubbington's disgust.

Brittany slowed down as she passed Puck's place alongside the road. She waved as he whistled at his dog who was herding the sheep to a smaller paddock where they were due a haircut.

"Morning, Britt." Puck leaned on the fence as she pulled up.

"You need any help with them?" she nodded her head toward the sheep who were collectively glaring at the yappy dog harassing them.

"It's cool. I can get them all done today, I reckon. Finn said he'd stop by this afternoon to help finish if there was any left. Hey Britt, you heard from Schuester? I ain't seen him in a while. I was just wondering."

"No, he hasn't been over the store for a while. I'll drop by on the way back from Sue's. It's only up on the ridge."

"Cool."

"Hey watch you don't give yourself another accidental haircut."

"That was one time and it was really hot weather, okay? And anyway, mohawks are cool."

"Sure they are. You sure you don't need any help?"

"It's all good, Britt. Besides, isn't it garbage day?

"Thanks for reminding me."

* * *

On her way to the only pass from the valley where the mountains met Brittany slowed down at the roadworks covering one half of the road. Finn managed to raise a hand to wave from where he was jackhammering into the concrete at the side of the road. Brittany nodded and drove on her eyes wide as Finn's foolish wave lost him control of the machine and it bounced off in the wrong direction.

With a drop down in gear Brittany took the track past the pass and up the steep sides which led to a compound on top of the ridge. She pulled up before the security gates surrounding a squat block building reminiscent of a requisitioned military building.

"Stay in the car," she ordered the non-responsive Lord Tubbington.

Leaning over the gently snoring cat's body she pulled a rag out of the glove box usually used for wiping the windshield. It hadn't been white for a long time but it would have to do. Waving the makeshift flag nonstop in the direction of the CCTV cameras scanning her every move Brittany advanced warily on the gate with her hands raised.

"Delivery!"

A rumbling sound startled her and she watched as the reinforced steel door to the main building opened and a tall thin woman wearing khaki combat trousers and a red tracksuit top exited. She marched over to the gate which opened as she swiped a fob over the sensor.

"Pierce."

"Hey, Sue," Brittany smiled. "Delivery for you. Arrived last night."

"That girls got you wrapped around her little finger."

Brittany shrugged then stared uneasily at the gun Sue had slung over her shoulder.

"Are you sure the assault rifle is entirely appropriate for a postal delivery?"

"This old thing? I was just letting off a few rounds. Gotta keep in shape. I didn't spend twenty years in the Special Forces just to be caught out because I didn't practice every day. You can't be too careful, Pierce. You never know what I might find skulking around my gateposts one morning."

"Um, so, Santana thinks it's your drone."

"Oooh!" Sue dropped her rifle and without hesitation opened the back door to the Land Rover and tugged out the large box onto the ground. Brittany eyed the discarded rifle with discomfort then took a wide eyed step back at the sight of Sue pulling out a combat knife and slicing open the box with a disturbing motion which wouldn't be out of place gutting a dragon.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"That is classified."

"Ooooh-kay. Well I'm going to go now." Brittany said closing up the back of her 4x4. Garbage to collect, etcetera."

"Not so fast, Pierce." Sue snapped her fingers as though remembering something. "While you're here you may as well come and shoot grenades off the top of the cliff. Want to see how close we can get to Hudson before he calls the Sheriff?"

"Uh, as satisfying as that sounds I do have to go work. Some other time though?"

"I see. Lopez got you on a short leash. Well, if you want to go shooting, let me know."

"Sure thing. Thanks, Sue."

"Or we could take the tank out," Sue suddenly offered. "It's a two man job."

"You have a tank?"

"Classified, Pierce. Bring that girlfriend of yours. And the doctor too."

"Quinn?"

"Sure. She's got that look about her."

"Look?"

"Like she'd kill a man with her bare hands."

"I'll be sure to pass on the invite. Next time I get a day off I'll give you a call."

"You do that. Pierce," Sue nodded sharply then her face lit up with glee as she unwrapped her new toy.

* * *

"You ate it all?" Rachel was outraged.

"You're vegan!"

"Kurt and Mercedes aren't."

"I had half a grapefruit," Kurt shrugged. "I only came over for the scintillating small town gossip."

"I ate your Cheerios while you were doing those abnormal stretching exercises," Mercedes confessed as she pulled up a stool next to Quinn.

"Granola bar?" Quinn offered. "I hear they never go off." Rachel snatched it with a scowl.

"How's the musical writing going?" Quinn aimed her question at Kurt.

"Show. It's a show," Rachel interjected.

Quinn shot a sharp warning glance Rachel's way causing her to look around for Santana.

"It's nearly completed," Kurt said proudly. "It was a great idea coming out here to work on it. The solitude, focus you can get here, the acoustics, are all incredible. Only Mercedes is missing the comforts of civilisation."

"I came over to use Santana's coffee machine," Mercedes chuckled as she walked over to where the shiny beast sat and began to press buttons. It was the ten thousand dollars' worth of coffee making prowess which brought coffee drinkers in to visit it religiously for miles. A potent money spinner considering the nearest Starbucks was 75 miles away.

The machine gurgled and spluttered and steamed furiously to life and Mercedes hummed happily at the scent it emitted.

"Should you be touching that? I'm not allowed to touch that upon penalty of maiming," Rachel pointed out.

"That's because you tried to make weird tea with it," said Quinn with an eye roll. "Brittany spent days cleaning out the entire system and refitting it."

"I don't know what she did to it but it makes better coffee than it did before," Mercedes said dreamily. "She should go into business making super coffee machines."

"Are you running the place?" Rachel's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Where's Santana?"

The blind hiding Santana's office twitched.

"On that note," Quinn stood and stretched then dropped twenty dollars on the counter. "I have to go to work"

"You're on vacation."

"My house isn't going to build itself. If you're here when Brittany returns ask her to drop by I need a hand shifting some timber."

Rachel huffed after her. "And good day to you too. Don't forget the council meeting tomorrow night, Quinn!"

"I wouldn't miss it even if the world ended!"

* * *

Brittany let out shaky breath as her Land Rover got to the end of Sue's driveway which was naught but a precariously engineered gravel track on the cliff face.

"Phew, that woke me up. What about you, Lord Tubbington?" The cat didn't open an eye just stayed sleeping on the passenger seat as he had through all the lumps and bumps and 27 degree inclines of death.

Back on the main road she turned off again onto a barely noticeable track toward a distant shack where old man Schuester lived. Legend had it he was an eccentric playwright but legend was self-proclaimed as such, also known by the names Rachel and Kurt and were prone to exaggeration. Brittany couldn't fathom why anyone would want to hide in the desert to write a play unless there was a beautiful woman located there. The important thing was Rachel and Kurt thought he was wonderful and got a bit weird about it when they thought he'd be sighted in town. As a result everyone in Perfection knew far too much about Will Schuester than they wished to.

The Land Rover pulled up to the Schuester place in a cloud of dust and Brittany stepped out looking around with interest. She had only been there once before to deliver a parcel but had received a friendly welcome, a cup of coffee and an interesting chat with the reclusive man. He'd moved out there after having his heart broken and was attempting to turn that heartbreak into something positive by channelling it into his work. His only problems were unannounced visits from two of his biggest fans and while he took them in good humour Brittany understood completely they could get very annoying very quickly.

"Hey, Will!" Brittany called out looking around the small property. His rusty old car was parked alongside the cabin. "Schuester?"

She tapped on the door and it creaked open. Sticking her head in the minimal cabin there was no sign of life in the two rooms.

Brittany walked over to the yard where Schuester had been working on a native garden using local grasses and cacti. The beginnings of a ditch had been dug near to the building. He had joked he was moving with the times by finally having a septic tank installed. Brittany didn't like to think where he'd been storing his poop before.

She meandered over to the washing line where a few garments flapped in the breeze. There was no sign of him off into the distance where she surmised he must be out stretching his legs.

As she stepped back her foot almost caught a hat siting on the ground. Brittany frowned recognising it as Schuester's tweed fedora he was rarely seen without. She reached down to pick it up then threw it away from her in horror at the sight beneath. In a small depression in the ground where the hat had been resting Schuester's face looked up at her. Covered in dust and sand his eyes were glazed but his mouth was open in a silent scream. Presumably the rest of him was beneath the sand.

Brittany's heart thudded wildly and she stumbled backwards.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit."


	3. Chapter 3

Brittany's Land rover sped down the road not stopping for bumps and bends. She had to get back to Perfection quick, call the sheriff and stop this situation from potentially reaching the town. Well, reaching Santana actually. And the others she supposed. Quinn was all right but no weird shit had better happen to Santana.

Brittany slowed down warily when it came to the section of road Finn had been working on. The tyres slid on the gravel and dirt as she braked to a stop at what was once the entrance to Perfection valley. The road was now gone. The telephone wires that had followed alongside the roadway were buried. A wall of boulders standing over twenty feet high now encompassed the pass, the cliff walls somehow having tumbled down. Brittany stared aghast, she had to get back to town and the road into Perfection was thoroughly blocked.

Everyone in the local vicinity knew Finn had been working to widen the road but this was the total and utter opposite of that. The question 'Could Finn really be that stupid?' crossed Brittany's mind for a second as she jumped out of the rover and began shouting furiously for the contractor.

"Goddammit Finn, what the hell?" she yelled. "I have to get to town, you fucking moron. Finn, are you there?"

Santana, Puck, Quinn… Rachel, they were all trapped in the valley with a possible murderer. Frantically Brittany grabbed a hold of Lord Tubbington, much to his displeasure, and began to climb over the landslide.

Once up on top of the pile of rocks a wave of relief ran through her at the sight of Finn's truck parked safely further on up the road. She'd still be able to get to town. Channelling Santana she shouted as she scrambled down the far side all whilst wrestling the bewildered cat.

"Finn, you fuckwit, answer me! If anything has happened to Santana, for your own sake, you'd better be buried under those boulders already."

What would have perhaps taken a minute or two was complicated by Lord Tubbington and after a scramworthy struggle Brittany finally reached the concrete road. To their mutual relief she put the disgruntled cat safely on the ground where he turned and glared at her indignantly.

Looking around it was clear there was no sign of the man at his worksite. Brittany eyed the boulders distrustfully. Sure, Finn was stupid, but stupid enough to be under a landslide? Even an unintentional landslide? Checking his truck she was glad to see the keys were still in the ignition. Lord Tubbington was once more unceremoniously hoisted up and then thrown onto the back seat. Brittany paused once more, one foot in the cab and surveyed the carnage. What the hell had happened here? Where was Finn?

"Hudson, you'd best not be hiding. I know you didn't mean to blow up the road but Schuester's dead. I gotta get to town. Finn! Fucking hell!"

She slammed the door and made her way over to the trench he'd been working on earlier that morning. The jackhammer was standing upright three quarters of its length in the ground. An orange liquid surrounded the hammer, almost like Hudson had hit a pipe or something and the contents had bubbled up to the surface. Next to the discarded machine was a lone work boot. Brittany dabbed her finger on the liquid and cautiously sniffed it.

"Finn!" she shouted again. "What the fuck? I'm taking your truck," she yelled angrily, "and I'm going back to town."

Next to the truck she wrote in the dust with the toe of her boot. 'Truck. Town. Britt.' And an arrow just in case the fool didn't know the way. With once last wild glance around Brittany started the engine and headed off.

* * *

The truck bombed along until Brittany reached Puck's sheep farm and slowly the truck rolled to a stop.

The enclosure which had been not even an hour ago been full of sheep was empty. Now only pieces of the flock remained. Parts of sheep lay scattered across the ground. Wool, blood and limbs were all that was left. Brittany slowly climbed out of the truck struck with horror.

A hoarse shout made her jump and her head whipped around searching for the source of the noise.

"Up here!"

Halfway up a telephone pole sat Puckerman. Brittany almost fell over with relief as she began to move toward him.

"Get off the ground," he croaked. "Britt," he called, his voice ragged. She ignored his unusual request and ran to the pole, climbing up to him.

"Puck," she gasped for breath. "What's happened?"

"They're in the ground," he sobbed, feebly reaching for her and gripping her dusty jacket.

She took a good look at the farmer. His work clothes were completely covered in the dirt from the valley floor. The thick coating of dust on his face and hair was broken up only by splatters of blood. She stared at the makeshift tourniquet he had made out of his belt above his right knee. The bottom half of his leg was missing, the flesh tattered and dusty.

"Puck?"

He slumped into her arms sobbing.

"It took my sheep. They were screaming… it took my leg, I nearly didn't get away."

"What did?"

"The thing in the goddamn ground. It came up under my feet," he sobbed.

Brittany thought back to Schuester, only his head had been visible with the rest of his body presumably under him in the ground, and Finn, he had been using a pneumatic drill which had hit something and been pulled into the ground.

Puck slumped heavily against her with the sheer relief of being found overcoming his exhaustion and knocking him unconscious. Brittany manged to manoeuvre him over her shoulder into a fireman's lift and began to slowly descend to the ground. She lay him in the flat bed of Finn's work truck covering him with Finn's big work jacket then took another look over the sheep farm.

Something had eaten those sheep. And Puck's leg.

She started up the truck and pushed down on the throttle. The truck juddered but didn't move forward. Leaning out the window Brittany could see the back wheel spinning in the dirt but could feel the truck trying to move. She flipped the lever into four wheel drive and tried again, reversing then shooting forward. Finally, with a sudden jolt, the truck shot forwards without any further resistance and sped off. Brittany didn't even give the farm a backward glance as she pulled out onto the road again.

"I know you're out of it, Puck, but I'm going to get you to Santana's. Quinn's there and we'll get help. The army, the air force, NASA, the flying doctors, I don't care. You're going to be okay"

* * *

Santana and Mercedes were on the porch deck outside of the store watching the dust trail from Hudson's truck bear down on them from the horizon. They stepped back warily as it screeched to a halt with the hood touching the deck. Brittany jumped out and had Santana in her arms in two bounds.

"Britt? What's wrong?" Santana gasped in alarm flinging her arms around Brittany's neck to steady herself.

"Are you okay?" Brittany frantically ran her hands over Santana's face, down her arms and her hands then spun her around inspecting her for damage.

"Am I okay? Are you okay? Britt, what's wrong?"

A groan from the back of the truck caught Mercedes attention and she gasped at the sight of Puck writhing in the back.

"Where's Quinn?" Brittany asked, not taking her hand away from Santana as Mercedes clambered onto the truck and inspected Puck.

"Santana, first aid kit," Mercedes ordered unceremoniously, "Now."

"Where's Quinn?" Brittany asked as Santana went to bring the stores first aid kit out to Mercedes.

"She went back to her plot," Santana said, grimacing as she peered into the back of the truck. "What's happened? Did he have an accident? Why are you driving Finn's truck? Where's Finn?"

"The phone lines are down. The road is blocked," Brittany blurted out, her voice shaking. "Schuester's dead and Hudson is missing. I found Puck up a pole. They're- hell, get off the ground!"

Brittany dragged Santana back to the doorway of the store holding her tight against her body then leant down and put an arm under Santana's knees scooping her up bridal style.

"What?" Santana squeaked, staring up at Brittany.

"He's lost a lot of blood." Mercedes grimaced at Puck's leg. "But it looks like the bleeding has slowed a lot. Oh, god. This needs cleaning."

"We need to get everybody off the ground," Brittany muttered. "Where's Rachel and Kurt?"

Mercedes and Santana exchanged a worried glance. "I got this," Mercedes said determinedly.

"Rachel, Kurt! Someone here wants your autograph!" she yelled down the road to the cottage the three were staying at. The women watched the door to the cottage fly open with a crash and Rachel and Kurt scuttled on their way to the store trying not to look like they were running.

"Britt," Santana said softly. Brittany turned her head slightly to look her in the eye. "You can put me down now."

Brittany's arms tightened around her then loosened. She let out a shaky sigh. "Oh, yeah." She carefully put Santana down then ran a grimy hand across her tired face. "I have to go get Quinn."

"You can't go back out there. Did you say Schuester's dead?"

"I only saw his head," Brittany murmured, then looking around said decisively. "We need to get everyone together and if we can't get Puck to a hospital then Quinn's the next best thing."

"What's going on, guys?" Rachel asked brightly. Her face turned an interesting shade of pale as she sighted Puck in the back of the truck.

"Help get him inside," Mercedes ordered and everyone scattered to assist.

"What happened?" Kurt gasped as they laid Puck out on a table inside the store.

"The road is blocked and the phone lines are down, the explosion took them out." Brittany explained. "I need to get Quinn and we need to contact the outside world."

"Explosion?"

"Finn was working on widening the road. He had explosives."

"Someone gave Hudson explosives?" Kurt look bewildered.

"How do we get out of the valley?" Rachel looked horrified. "How do we get Puck out of the valley?"

"Something killed Schuester and caused Finn to set off those explosives. And attacked Puck."

"And we're trapped!" Rachel shrieked. "No, no, no, no, no." She pulled out her mobile phone and hurried outside even though she was well aware the nature of the valley meant satellite reception was unreliable, infrequent and when it did appear lasted for eight minutes. Having caught more than enough of an eyeful of Puck's mangled leg Kurt hurried out after her.

Almost immediately a scream rent the air.

Brittany and Santana ran outside onto the deck to find Rachel with her face hidden in Kurt's shirt. Kurt, looking even more green around the gills, was staring at the back of Finn's truck where a strange snake-like creature was hanging onto the rear axle. What remained of it was about three feet long and the rear end of it was missing like it had been torn in half. It dripped orange blood onto the road.

Lord Tubbington sniffed it.

"Puck kept saying 'They're under the ground.' I don't know, I thought he was delirious but I saw … he might be right. It's so small though," Brittany frowned.

"We have to get out of here," Rachel whimpered. "We need to get a message out."

"I've got old CB radio," Santana offered. "And a, uh, ahem… police scanner." She led the group back inside and pulled them out from under the main counter.

Kurt grabbed the CB radio immediately and started setting it up. Santana reached back under the counter and pulled out her favourite shotgun.

"Try them all and keep trying on your phones. We might be lucky and get a passing satellite," Brittany called over her shoulder as she headed out of the doorway for Finn's truck.

No sooner had she settled in the driver's seat then Santana hopped into the passenger side, her shotgun cradled in her arms. "You're not going on your own."

Brittany stared at her, her mouth opening and closing slowly but no sound came out.

"I'd make a witty quip about calling shotgun but I'll refrain," Santana quirked her brow expecting resistance.

Mercedes stuck her head through the window making Santana jump. "Hurry."

"Don't do that when I've got a gun and there's a weird murderer thing on the loose!"

Santana leaned over and eyed up the three amigos looking scared but determined.

"Look after Puck. Try and get a hold of Sue, she'll have ninja medical training or something. And watch my store. I'll know if anything goes missing. Don't go in my office, Kurt or Rachel. It's booby trapped. Mercedes is in charge," Santana said specifically giving Rachel some stinkeye.

"'Cedes," Brittany said. "Can you…? Lord Tubbington."

"I'll watch him, Britt." Mercedes picked up the disgruntled looking cat from where he'd been wailing and scratching at Santana's door wanting to be let in with Brittany.

"Get everyone on the roof and make sure they stay there. Puck too. That's how they get you, they come out of the ground."

"What about the others, Schuester and Finn?" Mercedes asked quietly.

"Schuester's dead. Finn's… I don't know."

From inside the store they could hear Kurt begin his call for help.

"Sue? Come in, Sue. Dammit, anyone, can anyone hear me? Mayday, mayday. This is Perfection at Lopez' stores, we need medical assistance."

Mercedes and Rachel watched as the truck pulled away. Rachel shuffled backwards into the store her eyes on the dusty ground, muttering to herself.

* * *

 _ps. this chapter was a lil bitch but we should be on to the good shit now so itll be easier and quicker from now on_


	4. Chapter 4

The drive to Quinn's plot of land was undertaken in world record time, in case anyone was recording that sort of thing. Brittany and Santana pulled up to the usual spot where Quinn's trailer was located. 'Somewhere quiet' had been the reason Quinn gave for moving to Perfection. Brittany suspected she had murdered someone and was in hiding but she was mildly scared to ask and Santana refused to ask for her. Another theory was simply because her bff Santana lived there, and Brittany S. Pierce couldn't argue with that.

Both Brittany and Santana, together and individually, had spent a lot of time up at the plot helping her build so they were a little surprised to find only the framework of the house there; the trailer and Quinn's car were missing. Without getting out of the truck they looked around, puzzled.

"Ahem."

Both women looked over to the rock face of the outcrop which ran along one side of Quinn's plot. Perched on a granite ledge only ten metres from the truck sat Quinn. She glared at them.

"She looks pissed," Brittany murmured. "It makes me sweat when she gets pissed."

Brittany leisurely turned the truck around so Santana's window faced Quinn and parked up next to the rock. Quinn levelled a death glare at them.

"Um," Santana shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Hey, Quinn. How're you? Good. So, it turns out there's some freaky shit in the ground."

"I am aware," Quinn said icily.

"You know?"

"I am sitting on a fucking rock and do you see my trailer or my car?"

Brittany looked around the plot but there was nothing but sand, rock and a stack of timber.

"Uh, no?"

"Look again."

Deep rutted tyre tracks in the sand were gouged across the plot then disappeared as though returned to the desert, erased in the wind.

"That 'freaky shit' doesn't like Dixie Chicks. It pulled my car under and tried to eat my radio. Then it came after me in my trailer. I had to climb out of the roof vent and watch as it imploded into the ground."

"Did you see it?" Brittany asked excitedly.

"Of course I didn't fucking see it, it's in the fucking ground."

"Don't talk to Britt like that." Santana snapped at Quinn, then said to Brittany. "If only it had tried to eat her house she'd have ripped it out of the ground and strangled it with her bare hands."

"I bet. Uh, you want to get in?" Brittany asked with a hopeful smile.

Quinn muttered angrily to herself giving the death glare to the dirt. "Under the ground."

"Quinn, get in the damn truck. Puck needs medical attention."

"What's wrong with him?" She jumped head first through the rear window and wriggled onto the back seat. "My med bag was in my car."

"Something chewed half his leg off probably the thing that came after you. Puck got away lucky."

"Lucky?"

"Schuester and Finn weren't so fortunate."

Quinn yelped and rolled onto the floor and Santana grabbed onto the seat as Brittany slammed her foot on the throttle and swerved off the track and off road.

"Britt, where are you going?"

"To my place. I have to get something, and check my readouts."

"Now? We need to get back to the store!"

"I know. I swear this is important."

"How much more important can it be than Puck's life?"

"All our lives are as important as Puck's. None of us will be alive if we don't get out of this valley. I have to get a signal out. We're being hunted by something that has deliberately trapped us in the valley with it. It's like shooting fish in a barrel. The valley is closed, the lines are down. We need to get help and we need to know what we're up against."

Santana stared out into the desert grimly hanging onto her shotgun as the truck bumped along the rough ground.

"I trust you."

As they rounded the ridge they could see Brittany's trailer in the distance surrounded by unusual pieces of machinery.

"What's this stuff for?" Santana asked curiously.

"I'm using the valley bowl as a receiver. The natural sand base is a good way to catch particles."

"What kind of particles?"

"Whatever comes flying out of the beginning of the universe."

Quinn and Santana exchanged a matching look of bewilderment.

"Um, how do you know if you've caught one?"

"Hold up, shit is being fired at us out of space?" Quinn pulled a face. "How long has this been going on?"

"Only forever. Don't worry about it, it's nothing bad just cool. I have multiple sensors dotted all over the valley. This one collates highly sensitive seismic activity. This past week… there have been strange readouts," she admitted with a deep sigh.

"I haven't had time to look at them closely and, to be honest, I assumed it was Finn working on the road or Sue having a mad half hour; they mess it up all the time with their explosions. But now… I'm not so sure."

Brittany pulled up next to large cube shaped piece of machinery fifty yards from her trailer and gingerly stepped out onto the ground. She looked around warily. Within three tiptoed steps she was at the device and pulling open a hatch. She pulled out a roll of paper printouts and hurried back to the truck.

The readouts were laid out over the dashboard and spread out three different sheets. They all looked at the seismograph printouts where ink sprawled across the paper in messy squiggles.

"Look. Here." Brittany pointed out a large abnormal fluctuation on one of the charts.

"Looks like Quinn's handwriting to me," Santana muttered. "What are we looking at, Britt? It's a big squiggle."

"I didn't know what it was, only that it's not the particle readout I was looking for so I wasn't too bothered. I figured Sue was firing off grenades or something. But look, here." Brittany pointed out another fluctuation on another sheet.  
"This reading is from the sensor on the western ridge thirty minutes before this one on the southern side. And another seven minutes later to the north east." She pointed out multiple fluctuations on the readouts.

"What does that mean?" Quinn asked dreading the reply.

"We're in deeper shit that we thought. There are more than one of these things in the valley. There's at least three."

Quinn gritted her teeth and stared out over the valley floor. Santana looked horrified.

"What the ever loving fuck?" she spluttered. "Three of them! Are those things aliens? Did you know they were there?"

"No, of course not!"

"Is that why you're here?" Santana asked accusingly. "Is that why the men in black were looking for you?"

"No. You know why I'm here," Brittany said softly. When Santana didn't reply she turned and opened the door again.

"Will you stop walking on the ground?" Santana hissed furiously. "Where are you going?"

"I need to get something from my trailer."

"Uh, no you don't. We need to get back. Puck needs Quinn and Rachel Berry is loose in my store unsupervised. If she's touched my iPod and messed with my playlist I'll kill her."

"Just one thing." Brittany dashed over the rough ground toward her trailer and disappeared inside.

Santana cursed so hard even Quinn looked taken aback. She fumbled with the truck door then still hugging her shotgun ran after her shouting, "Brittany Susan Pierce, get back here!"

"No, no, no, it's fine," Quinn said quietly to the empty seats. "Just leave me here, it's not like we know if these things eat trucks. Fuck."

Santana stumbled up the step into the trailer, a few seconds later she had Quinn draped over her back. They stopped in the doorway and watched as Brittany adjusted her ponytail through the battered faded NASA cap now on her head.

Quinn spluttered. "Is the hat necessary? We're being hunted by aliens and you're accessorizing?"

Brittany winked at her then rummaged through a drawer.

"Where did you get that hat?" Santana eyed it suspiciously.

"Space camp."

"You went to space camp?" Quinn gasped enviously. "I always wanted to go there. My mom made me go to cheerleading camp instead," she huffed.

"Not exactly, I didn't 'go' to camp, I was an instructor." Brittany began searching through another drawer pulling items out by the handful and chucking them to the side. "Besides, if you hadn't gone to cheer camp then you wouldn't have met me," Brittany dorkily waggled her eyebrows at Quinn.

Santana scowled and elbowed Quinn in the ribs and shoved her back out the door then went further into the trailer.

"Was that necessary?" Quinn squeaked, rushing back inside. "Fuck, you've got a bony elbow. I bet you sharpen them."

"We'll be coming back to what happened at cheer camp at a later time but for now … you worked for NASA?" Santana asked while Quinn wheezed for air.

"Work. I'm on sabbatical."

Santana stared at her open mouthed.

"Sweet baby Jesus in a fig roll. Your girlfriend's an astronaut, Santana. Did you know this? Hell, I'd have snapped her up first if I'd known."

"I am going to remind you, Fabray, that I have a shotgun and if I wasn't saving it for the fugly ass alien dirt kraken it would be up your ass already."

"They're not aliens," Brittany muttered without looking up still concentrating on her search.

"Well, turns out you're the expert!" Santana gestured wildly waving her shotgun around. "And never mentioned it in any kind of comprehensive English."

"Ohhh," Quinn watched wide eyed sensing drama.

"Aha!"

Brittany grabbed a small four inch metallic cylinder with a red plastic cap at one end. She raised it triumphantly and grinned at the women watching her.

"Here come the cavalry!"

She slammed her fist down smashing the red end down on the stove. The thin plastic cap shattered and the cylinder immediately began to emit a beeping noise. Pots and a frying pan rattled and one tumbled to the ground with the force of her blow crashing onto the cat's dishes below.

"Whoops!"

To their dismay the trailer began to tremble and the exterior steps quickly sank into the sandy dirt below.

"Time to go."

Brittany led the way through the shaking trailer into the small bedroom at the back and scrambled out the window. Situated next to the trailer for its shade was an outcrop of large boulders fairly common across the local area. In an undignified scramble they ran to the nearest rock and climbed up the face until they were perched at the high point twenty feet off the dirt.

Clinging to each other in a dusty trembling group, the women watched as the trailer sank as though bogged down in quicksand. When half of it was submerged the movement stopped as the creature responsible became uninterested in the non-edible object.

"I bet that's the dickshit that ate my trailer. You damn shithead!" Quinn yelled at the now still trailer and danced hopping mad on top of the rock. "I hope you get metal splinters and septicaemia, dirtsucker!"

"You tell it, Quinn!" Santana snorted.

"Quiet!" Brittany watched the area with a frown. "It can hear us. It can't travel through the rock but it can hear us. The rock must transmit the vibrations."

"I wonder if they can climb outside of the dirt."

"Why would you put that thought out there into the universe?"

Later on no one would admit to who let out the ear spitting shriek that occurred as the monster erupted from the dirt at the base of the rock. Like a scene from a low budget sea world horror flick it reached halfway up the solid rock, its fat grub-like body writhing as fat hairs along its flank tried to find a grip on the rock. Ten foot of the grub flailed and thrashed against the rock, it was impossible to tell how much of it remained under the ground.

When it realised it wasn't getting anywhere the creature opened its mandibles, an insect like shiny beak, and six tentacles extended further up the rock reaching another six foot higher. Each snake like tentacle had its own individual mouth which snapped and lunged at the women perched just out of reach.

It bellowed as Santana emptied shotgun cartridge after cartridge into its open maw. Three tentacles were blasted clean away from the mouth and the others quickly retreated back into the main body. The large grub-like body wriggled and writhed, a piercing shriek emitting from it as the monster sank back into the ground. The sandy dirt settled smoothly over the top of it and apart from the orange blood spatters on the rock face there was no further sign of the creature.

"Now we know," Santana squeaked. "Now we know what it looks like and that is butt ugly."

"I didn't need to know. I'm not sure I needed to see that. I could have gone for longer not seeing that." Quinn's hands were white with the force she was gripping on Brittany's jacket.

Brittany stared at the ground in amazement.

"That was so freakin' awesome." Quinn slapped her on the arm. "Apart from the eating people part."

* * *

 **Sometime later….**

Quinn picked up a fist sized rock and threw it at the sandy crater the grub had created. A snake tentacle popped up like a periscope and bit down on the rock shaking it about like a dog with its favourite toy then spat it out with disgust and slid back into the sand.

"It must get sand everywhere," Santana mused. "In its mouth, in its tinier mouths, up its butt, on its food, everywhere."

"One was at the pass, the one that got Fi-" Brittany paused "-Schuester and Puck. There's one here, where's the third?"

"Get the fuck out of there, trailer trash!" Quinn screamed at her newfound mortal enemy who, as evidenced by the rippling sand was now investigating around the end of the trailer.

"What was the red thing you smashed?" Santana asked Brittany as they sat on the top of the rock watching Quinn berate the monster.

"An emergency beacon. If a satellite was passing it'll be picked up."

"By who?"

"NASA. My boss at NASA, she's um…. She likes to be prepared."

"Your boss gave you an emergency distress pulse beacon thing that links straight to NASA? Who the fuck are you?"

"Brittany S. Pierce," Brittany S. Pierce smirked. "I reckon we've got until not long after dawn before Sugar comes a calling."

"Sugar?"

"My boss. Sugar Motta, Director of Theoretical Experimental Department."

"Sounds like a stripper," said Quinn, sitting down next to them.

"Is that who those guys in suits were?" Santana asked. "Do they work for your boss?"

"I don't know. You scared them off," Brittany grinned. "I mean, she's been trying to get me to go back to work but my experiments here have been keeping her off my back. The patchy comms in this valley were driving her mad. She even sent me a snail mail letter. I've never seen such angry longhand."

"We have to get off this rock before your rescuers get here," Quinn sighed. "I need to check on Puck and we also have the tiny problem of having no water in the middle of the desert."

"That thing probably knows we're still here because you keep bitching at it," said Santana.

"Fuck you, why don't you run over there and bring the truck closer?" Quinn retorted.

The trailer groaned and settled even deeper into the desert. The setting sun reflected red and gold off the remains.

"Maybe it'll get bored and just go away on its own."

* * *

As the sun rose over the valley Santana woke up with sand in her mouth, back ache and a crick in her neck. She was warm apart from her legs which were bare but found her top half was covered with Brittany's denim jacket. She was snuggled next to a still snoring Quinn. Santana made sure to elbow her hard as she sat up and looked around for Brittany.

"Morning," Brittany smiled from the highest point of the rock she was perched on. A small pile of stones lay next to her. She picked one out and threw it out onto the sand. The sand churned and let out a hiss and a puff of dust.

"It's still there," she sighed, coming back over to sit next to Santana.

"Will Sugar be here soon?" Santana asked as she draped the jacket over the two of them.

"She'll re-task satellites to watch us now that its daylight but she'll just see us sitting on a rock. I don't know what she'll think. Last time I had one of those distress thingies Lord Tubbington chewed the end and set it off. Sugar was so mad she sent him to cat obedience classes. It wasn't pretty."

"We can't wait any longer, Britt. We need to get Quinn to Puck."

They sat in silence and stared out into the desert as the sun slowly rose and the temperature lifted.

"Have you ever been in space?"

"No." Brittany smirked. "Would you date me if I was an astronaut?"

Santana nudged her. "Shut up."

"I'll ask as soon as we get out of this. Sugar owes me. Hey Sugar, I need to go into space to impress a girl."

Santana rolled her eyes and sighed. "You don't need to impress me."

Britt smiled at her. "First, we'll have to distract the beast so we can get to the truck."

"Distract it how?"

Brittany leaned into her. "You're very distracting, you tell me."

"I need coffee if you're going to be like this." Quinn sat up bleary eyed and rubbed her face. "I had a dream about how to kill it."

"That's great, Quinnie, are you going to share with the rest of the class?"

Quinn looked around the rock before leaning in towards the other two and whispering. "You're going to act as bait and I'm going to get that gas bottle," she said pointing to the small gas canisters Brittany used for cooking. They were scattered away from the trailer knocked onto their side on the ground. "Then I'm going to shove the bottle down its throat and you're going to shoot it in the face, and boom. I also had a bacon sandwich in this dream."

"Why are you whispering?" Brittany asked, perplexed.

"So the bad guy can't hear the plan."

Santana snorted.

"That's insane," Brittany and Santana said at the same time.

"We're not going to risk shoving gas down its throat," Brittany said sensibly. "We're going to get the truck and run away."

"Who's the fastest?" Santana asked.

"I am," said Brittany.

"Clearly you've never seen Santana run for the bathroom after eating 3 tacos for a dollar."

"For fucks sake, Quinn." Santana couldn't meet Brittany's eye.

Brittany thought it better not to ask for now. "Look, I'm the fastest. Santana will cover both of us with the gun. Quinn you're the distraction."

"Rock paper scissors."

"Face it, you'll never get that gun off Santana without someone getting shot, and just think, you can tell that creature exactly what you think of it. Head for that rock over there," Brittany pointed to another large boulder embedded in the desert dirt about a hundred metres away. "Make as much noise as possible and when it goes after you I'll run for the truck."

"My dream plan was better than running. I hate running."

"One time you dreamt you were a ball of cheese and would roll across the valley like a tumbleweed building up speed until you used the valley sides as a half pipe." Santana pointed out.

"That was a top 5 dream and I'd been smoking weird shit with Puck. Shit, Puck!" she groaned. "Give me the gun. If it's going to run after me I want the gun."

"Over my dead body," Santana hugged her shotgun tighter.

"There's no guarantee it will follow you," Brittany pointed out. "And you need to concentrate on running."

Quinn jumped up and down on the rock and let out a snarl.

Santana and Brittany took a step back in tandem.

"Eat my trailer, eat my car, I'll eat you, you filthy turd licking dirt fucker!" Quinn let out a piercing scream of rage jumping up and down on the rock. "You want a piece of this?" she slapped her chest and screamed.

"Oh my god, what have we done?" Santana gasped in wonder.

Without a warning Quinn bolted down the side of the rock opposite to the site of the trailer and ran out onto the dirt. Brittany looked over at the crater the grub had been hiding in and saw the sand trickle slowly.

"It's moving," she warned.

Quinn screamed and ran like a bat out of hell tearing across the dirt. Santana winced as she watched her trip over a tuft of grass and land on her face.

Brittany watched the sand ripple as the beast began to follow her.

Quinn scrambled to her feet and ran, screeching, "Come and get me mother fucker!"

"It's fast. Like, are they supposed to be that fast?" Santana pondered, watching the dust plumes puff up. She watched as Quinn made it up onto the rock with seconds to spare as the grub burst out from the dirt and the smaller snake headed tentacles snapped at Quinn's feet. She kicked one in the face then rolled out of reach on top of the rock. Quinn began to cheer for herself whooping and hollering making as much noise as possible.

"I guess with the right motivation anyone is capable of running," Santana said, turning to talk to Brittany. Who wasn't there? Santana looked over to the truck to see Brittany pull open the door and dive into the driver's seat.

She laughed at the sight.

"I'm king of the world you bristly grubshit!" Quinn yelled behind her.

Santana's smile faded as the truck remained silent. Brittany stuck her head out of the window and looked across at her.

"The keys are in my jacket!" she yelled.

Santana felt the pockets of the oversized denim jacket she was wearing, she had had to roll the sleeves up to fit her. She pulled the truck keys out of her right pocket and held them up helplessly for Brittany to see.

Santana looked back at Quinn who was running up and down the rock keeping the creature occupied and snapping at her heels.

"Aww shit." Santana shouldered her shotgun, tightened her shoelace and ran.

Quinn was now spitting at the grub. A big gob of it landed on its head.

"Yeah, your daddy should have done us all a favour and- Hey!" The grub sank back into the earth. "Where you going? We were just getting to know each other."

She looked over to the other rock to see Santana running for the truck.

"What? That's not in the plan! Hey fuckwit, get back here!" She yelled at the retreating wave of sand that was targeting Santana. "No, get back here!"

Quinn watched in horror as it rapidly gained on her.

"Surprisingly fast for a worm," Quinn said to herself. "Shit," she whispered, unable to do anything but watch.

Brittany jumped out of the truck and ran for the nearest gas canister. There would be no time to start the truck and get away. As Santana ran head long for the open driver's door Brittany climbed up on the hood of the truck and held the canister over her head. She watched the sand and dust plumes bear down on Santana.

The grub burst out of the ground rearing up in the air in front of the truck and aiming for Santana who was fumbling with her shotgun. Before it could lunge Brittany threw the gas tank into the open jaws. The creature hesitated in its attack on Santana contemplating the morsel in its throat.

"Shoot her!" Brittany screamed.

Santana jumped backwards into the open truck and fired the shotgun directly into the monsters mouth. The gas canister ignited instantly.

Brittany was blown backwards over the side of the truck with the force of the blast. She hit the dust with a thud that winded her and cringed as grub guts splattered over her. Santana was more fortunate being shielded from the blast and the monster chunks by the windshield as blood and guts rained down over the local area.

Shocked at the explosion Santana struggled to her feet and ran around the truck to Brittany, throwing herself down at her side, knees scraping the dirt. She held her shaking arms out checking Brittany for injury.

Brittany was grinning wildly at the carnage, wiping guts off her shirt. She sat up slowly and raised her hand up to Santana's tear streaked face.

"It's okay, I'm okay. We did it," she said softly. Santana looked her up and down shaking at the sight of orange blood and splatter all over Brittany. "It's not my blood, I promise, mine's red."

With her assurance she wasn't hurt Santana threw herself into Brittany's arms hugging her tightly and sobbing.

In the distance they could hear Quinn whooping triumphantly from the top of her rock.

"We will never hear the end of Quinn's dreams from now on," Brittany said, holding Santana.

Santana snorted into her neck and held her tighter.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

"Don't feel obliged to aim for every bump in the road." Quinn's teeth chattered as the truck bumbled unrelenting over ruts.

"We own these fucking roads!" Santana yelled, leaning out of the window and whooping.

Quinn sat back wide eyed.

"Okay, listen, Furiosa. Just because you blew up a worm-"

"A giant space worm."

"Yeah!" From the driver's seat Brittany lifted her arm up for a high five which Santana slapped joyfully.

"Whatever, it doesn't mean my spine wants to disintegrate. Britt, please!"

Brittany slowed down a tiny amount and the air stopped howling in through the open windows.

"Oh gross," Quinn gagged, "You have to get in a shower. Go faster."

"Make up your mind."

"It's not my fault your girlfriend smells like worm intestines."

"Boom!" Santana chuckled.

"It was more like splat."

Brittany slowed down further as they neared Perfection. Santana leaned out of the window and peered ahead trying to get a glimpse of her store.

"I can't see anyone," she said, her voice amplified by the ghost town's silence.

"Shouldn't we be going quieter so the ground police don't hear us?" Quinn whispered, grabbing ahold of Santana's arm and tugging her back into her seat.

"I can't see any disruption, maybe the worms haven't been here," Brittany said, quietly.

Brittany turned off the engine and they coasted in to the town along the main drag towards their destination.

"Oh, never mind," Brittany said sheepishly.

The front corner of Santana's store had subsided into the valley dirt like a sinkhole had opened up on an important structural point.

The truck rolled to a stop in front of it. For a moment there was silence, no sounds of life anywhere in the town just the breathing of the women in the truck. A tumbleweed rolled past them and continued on its way down the road completely oblivious to the atmosphere in the truck.

Santana glared red hot lasers at her store then spluttered under her breath.

"Those dirt lickers touched my store," she growled out between gritted teeth. "I'm going to destroy them."

She snapped off her seatbelt (safety first, kids) and exited the truck, the door slamming behind her. Brittany and Quinn hurried after her. The gravel crunched underfoot then boots tapped on the deck, the place was otherwise quiet. Santana stood in the open doorway to her business.

The door was hanging off its hinges and the doorframe was lopsided. She unslung her shotgun from her shoulder and stepped inside.

"I was going to ask to move in with you," said Quinn, eyeing the fallen shelves, overturned tables and the shattered floorboards.

In the centre of the store was a suspiciously space grub sized crater. A large smear of blood ran across the wooden floor from the kitchen area, stark against the dust and led into the hole. Directly above the crater the sky was visible through the partially collapsed roof, the debris sloped up.

"You're insured, right?" Quinn asked.

"Only with proof of ownership," Santana growled.

Brittany coughed and then cleared her throat. "Where's my cat?"

Movement caught their attention and they watched as a human head rolled through the hole in the roof, down the sloping roof debris and lolloped to a stop where seconds before the three women had stood.

They were now perched precariously at the top of the pile of shelving. Santana was uppermost, her arms wrapped around Brittany's head and her feet pushing at Quinn's side.

"The fuck, the fuck, the fuck, the fuck," Santana repeated like a mantra. "Whose fucking head is that?"

"Whose is it?" Quinn screeched. "What does it matter? Why isn't it attached to something? Fuck!"

"I'm not looking," Santana said strained and she held Brittany tighter.

"I'm not looking either," Brittany said her voice muffled from where her face was held against Santana's chest.

"I think we should be quieter than this," Quinn hissed. "oh, this is the worst two days of my life."

Brittany extracted her face and leaned her head on Santana's shoulder as they all huddled closer together.

* * *

"Hey!"

The three women all looked to each other, puzzled as to who had spoken.

"Up here."

"If that head is fucking talking I am done. I am done and that's it. I've had enough, this can all just stop," Santana rambled as tears began to form in her eyes.

"Santana!"

They looked up to the hole in the roof to see Rachel's upside down head sticking through the hole. "You're okay," she gasped. "Get up here!"

Gingerly they scrambled up the collapsed roof debris careful not to look at lost body parts lying around.

"Lord Tubbington!"

Brittany let out a huge sob and ran across the roof to gather him up in a hug. She rubbed her face in his dusty fur and he chirped happy to see his best friend.

Santana stood by grimly as Rachel hugged her tightly, weeping loudly and wetly.

"There is a fucking head in my store, Rachel. I left you with specific instructions. Whose head is it?"

Rachel gripped her harder.

Quinn looked around the ruined rooftop at its inhabitants with grim realisation.

"Where's Puck?" she asked, in a subdued tone.

A thoroughly bedraggled looking Mercedes, who was tucked up against the roof edge in partial shade next to a blood spattered Kurt, shook her head in reply.

"Puck woke up and started screaming in pain," she said in a shaky voice. "The next thing we know the floor erupted and a monster grabbed him and started dragging him into the ground. Kurt stabbed it with a kitchen knife and Rachel hit it with a chair. I blasted it with a fire extinguisher and it let him go and went back under. Within seconds it came back and shot up out of the ground so hard it hit the roof. It knocked us all down and… took him. Most of him."

Quinn sat down next to Mercedes and gripped her hand. Santana walked over to Brittany who was staring out into the desert with a frown and a cat grasped tightly to her shoulder. Santana leaned into her side and rested her head on Brittany's free shoulder. Brittany turned her head and dropped a kiss on the top of Santana's head.

* * *

Eventually Mercedes broke the quiet to explain that Kurt had been trying the CB radio every ten minutes but there had been no response.

"Rachel's been using a mirror to try to signal Sue."

"It's stupid, I know."

"No," Santana said, trying not to look surprised. "That's a brilliant idea, Rachel."

Rachel gave her a watery smile.

"Any response?"

She sniffled and shook her head.

"Okay," Santana tapped her awkwardly on the arm. "Keep trying."

"Uh," Kurt whispered to Quinn, nodding his head indicating where Santana and Brittany were standing. "Why does Brittany smell and look like she crawled out of a sewer?"

"She was about to be eaten by a grub but Santana blew it up kind of in her face. So we do have some good news," Quinn said to Mercedes, Rachel and Kurt.

They looked up hopefully.

"Well technically two, no three pieces of good news. And then two pieces of bad news." She looked over to Santana and Brittany for support but they were cuddled up quietly. "So, the good news is we killed one of the grubs."

Three grime stricken faces stared at her.

"One of?" Mercedes asked. "I don't like the way you phrased that."

"Yeah, that's the bad news. There's two more of them."

"And the other piece of bad news?" Rachel pleaded. "Please Quinn, just get it over and done with."

"The grub things are at least thirty foot long, potentially longer."

"Well, that just fucking fantastic," Rachel spluttered and began to cry, again.

Quinn relayed the trios experience of monster battle and the reason behind Brittany covered head to foot in slime and guts. Once their tales of survival were exchanged, the sorry looking bunch of survivors fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

"What's the rest of the good news?" Kurt asked hopefully.

Quinn cracked a smile.

"Brittany's some kind of super genius astronaut and she contacted NASA and they're hopefully coming to rescue us. And last but not least, those two," she nodded her head in Brittany and Santana's direction, "look like they're finally getting their act together."

Rachel wiped her nose on her sleeve and sniffed morosely. "You all owe me twenty bucks apiece. I called this week. If we live, that is. You don't have to pay if you get eaten."

"What?" Mercedes began to argue but was interrupted by Santana's shotgun going off.

The gamblers heads all snapped around to find Brittany and Santana struggling over control of the shotgun. Lord Tubbington was now cowering in the corner away from them.

"Don't shoot it!" Brittany was yelling.

"What the ever loving fuck is going on?" Santana roared. "Imma shoot the shit out of everything that moves!" Santana was screeching as she wrestled for control of the gun.

Quinn got up and moved warily towards them until Rachel screeched in her ear and jumped on her back as a shiny white flying machine rose from behind the building and hovered in front of them.

"I did not sign up for aliens," Mercedes yelled and threw the CB radio at the four foot wide UFO. She missed and it plummeted over the side of the building. "I am drawing a fucking line! Santana, blow its brains out!"

Brittany jumped in between them all and the flying machine rising her arms to stop their attack. Santana glared at her, her chest heaving but the shotgun pointing away.

"Brittany…."

"It's Sue's drone!" Brittany explained. "Sue got your message, Rachel. She sent her drone." She grinned at them and turned to stare at the hovering machine that buzzed in front of her, then waved happily at the drone. "No wonder that box was heavy, that's huge. Military grade."

The drone buzzed and flew over the roof scrutinising the survivors who were huddled together in a pack, minus Brittany who was watching its movements with interest and Santana who was still puffing out steam from her adrenaline high.

The tension abated as the drone hovered down over an open patch of roof.

"We need to tell Sue what's happening," said Brittany, eyeing it thoughtfully. "There's no microphone. It's visual only."

"Ohhh! Rachel and I have got this," Kurt stepped forward dusting off his shirt. Rachel flicked her hair back a determined look on her face.

"'Cedes?" Kurt asked.

"Uh no, you carry on," she said and backed away.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Mercedes, Quinn, Santana and Brittany sat with their backs against the wall around the edge of the roof all in various stages of fascination at the mime show they had just witnessed. There had been an occasional prompt thrown in but they had sat back and watched as the previous couple of days events had been melodramatically re-enacted before their eyes for the benefit of Sue's unresponsive drone.

"This is the strangest day of my life," Mercedes said quietly.

"I think I'll be scarred for life from this," Quinn said. "And I don't mean by the giant worms."

Santana and Brittany had tried valiantly not to catch each other's eye through the whole show but now there was nothing else to look at collapsed into hysterical laughter.

"Will you shut up," Quinn hissed, thumping Santana who was sitting within arm's reach. "We're supposed to be quiet."

"But, but," Santana snorted. "When Rachel was being you running away from the grub-" she had to stop talking from laughing too much.

"Yeah, I didn't realise you were constipated at the time," Brittany said with glee. "I hope Sue recorded all that."

Kurt and Rachel stood before them unsure whether to be offended or pleased with the varied reactions.

"Uh, you're welcome? I knew those acting classes would pay off." Kurt beamed.

"Anyway." Brittany pulled a notebook out of her pocket and began to write in block capital letters. "We could have just done this but your way was much more entertaining."

 _ **Under attack. 20ft+ subterranean monsters. 2 remaining. Need heavy artillery.**_

"No, no, no," Santana snatched it out of her hands and flipped over to a new page.

 _ **Being eaten by giant space grubs. Bring every fucking gun you have**_

"Does she have nukes?" Santana asked.

"No!" Brittany, Mercedes and Quinn chorused.

"I'm vegan," Rachel shook her head. "Nukes are bad for the environment."

"There will be no nuking of anything," said Brittany, taking back her notepad before anything devastating could be written on it.

"I was just asking," Santana huffed. "But she does have some, right? I thought that's why she was crazy, because of the radiation."

"I think she's just regular crazy," said Quinn.

They all watched as the drone landed on the rooftop and powered down.

"Whatever she is," said Mercedes watching as Lord Tubbington sniffed the machine, now finding himself brave enough while it wasn't moving. "I hope she comes to save our asses."

##########

In the control room of her bunker atop the valley ridge Sue peered carefully at one of the monitors in front of her relaying the visuals from the drone. Still in shock from Kurt and Rachel's bewildering Punch and Judy mime show the penny dropped as she read first Brittany's note and then Santana's.

"Oh, yes." A gleeful smile split her face. "Oh yes!" she cackled. "Becky!"

A 5ft tall hologram appeared in the control room imitating a young blonde haired woman.

"What, Sue?" Her A.I. snapped. "I'm on level 42876 on candy crush. It better be important."

Sue spun around on her swivel chair to face her assistant. "I've been waiting for this my whole life," she sighed, happily. "Becky! Initiate a Code Green."

Becky's face scrunched up in disbelief. "Code Green. That's the alien invasion code."

"I am well aware of my own finely honed code system. I have spent thirty years preparing for war with an alien invasion force, now get to work and do the job I paid for you for!"

Immediately the lights dimmed and a beacon began to flash red in the corner of the room. A piercing siren wailed and what appeared to be a wall with various spanners and wrenches lined up flipped around 180 degrees to reveal a rack of rifles.

"It's still set for code red, for when the IRS came by. I don't think we have a green light bulb." Becky snorted. "You can't be that prepared, you haven't even got the right colour light!"

"How about you mute yourself and that damn siren. That's how the IRS knew I was home."

"Hmmm," Sue mused, checking her rifle selection. "Not enough. Get the RPG's out. And make sure the chaingun is loaded. Is that napalm still in date?"

Sue rolled her eyes. "Unmute, just keep the commentary to a minimum. Now, fire up the Suetank."


	6. Chapter 6

6.

"I'm hungry," Quinn whimpered with misery.

"You're always hungry. You sure it's not just Perfection valley that has worms?" Santana snapped at her.

Rachel emitted a grossed out whine and Mercedes made a gagging sound.

"I'm not hungry at all now," Kurt huffed.

"That's disgusting and uncalled for. I've done nothing but help save your girlfriend's life today," Quinn grumbled. They were all huddled up against the roof edge trying to hide in the sliver of shade it afforded them.

Lord Tubbington looked up at Brittany and meowed pitifully. She reached out and scratched his neck.

"Okay, buddy. You're right."

Disentangling herself from Santana, Brittany stood up and stretched, her neck cracking as she rolled it. She peered out over the desert in the direction of Sue Sylvester's compound but there was no sign of movement. The ground visibly baked in the heat, the rising haze making everything wobbly.

"Lord Tubbington is right. We need water, food and shelter from the burning ball of nuclear fusion radiating our brains and ripening our B.O."

"Oh sure, listen to the cat," Quinn muttered and tried to shift her head further into the wall to get more shade.

Everyone watched as Brittany walked to the edge of the hole leading into the depths of the store.

"It's pickling time," she said grimly, staring into the dark beneath.

Everyone but Santana exchanged puzzled looks.

"What does that mean?" Mercedes asked with a confused frown.

"You're not going back in there!" Santana grabbed Brittany's arm and pulled her back from the edge.

"Have you got any magnets?" asked Brittany, clasping Santana's hands in earnest.

"No," Santana said slowly. "That's not something I keep in stock. There's not much call for magnets in the desert."

"You're right. We could easily make our own if we could spend enough time on the ground. I guess we'll have to do it the old fashioned way and go in there and pick up the supplies ourselves. We'll kind of die without water."

"They know we're here," Santana finally thought to hush her voice and peered down into the store as though expecting a couple of space worms to be sitting there ear wigging their conversation.

"That they do."

The remaining dusty survivors shuffled to the breach and looked down.

"Oooh hotdogs," said Quinn, spying an errant tin.

"Can you get me ice cream?" Kurt asked Brittany.

"And a beer?" Quinn asked hopefully.

Santana spluttered with indignation.

"Shut up! All of you. Brittany's not going in there. It's my store, if anyone's going in there it's me. I've got the shotgun, and I'll shoot any one of you that loots it."

"Okay, Annie Oakley. You cover the crater with your precious baby. Britt goes for the water and I'll grab some food. How does that sound?" Quinn offered, trying to placate her highly stressed friend.

"Could you make sure there's a vegan option?" Rachel interjected.

Santana growled. Mercedes tugged Rachel away while Brittany stepped up to Santana and began to massage her shoulders and talked in a low calm voice.

"We'll be as quiet as a deadly fart. Anything pops out of that tunnel you hit it like whack-a-mole, whack-a-rat, whatever it's called. Imagine its got Rachel's face; you won't be able to miss. We've got this, we are going in together. Monster hunters!"

"And Quinn?"

"Quinn too."

"Hopefully they'll eat her first."

"Hopefully, no one will be getting eaten but if someone does, I'll make sure it's Quinn," Brittany assured her.

"I'm standing right here," Quinn scowled at them.

"Don't worry, they'll spit you out once they find out you've got worms," said Santana.

"I do not have worms!"

"Uh guys? We're supposed to be quiet," Kurt pointed out again.

"Shhh!" Brittany shushed him and headed for the new entrance to the store. "Quinn, Santana. No talking in the store unless something bursts out from under the ground and attempts to eat one or more of us. However, if you find a human head, then a short sharp scream is acceptable. Or if you find some sour patch kids.  
Kurt, Rachel, Mercedes. You're all on lookout. Anything so much as blinks and I want to know about it."

"Do grubs even have eyes?" Mercedes pondered.

"Yeah, how are they going to blink without any eyes?" Kurt demanded.

Brittany turned her back on them ignoring their queries.

"It's not the eyes I'm worried about!" Quinn hissed at the piss poor excuses for lookouts. "It's the fucking snake tongue giant mouths that kill you."

"Did you know that pirates wore eye patches so that when they went below deck one of their eyes would be accustomed to the dark and they'd be able to see straight away," Brittany said, directing her words at Quinn who was immediately distracted from her potentially imminent painful death.

Quinn stared at her then eventually managed to splutter. "I don't know if that's true or not but didn't they wear them because they were missing an eye?"

"What makes you think pirates disproportionately lost eyes compared to non piratey people?" Brittany asked, moving to stand next to Santana.

"Oh, I don't know! Maybe it was because they ran about waving pointy swords around, of course there was a lot of losing of eyes." Quinn rounded on Santana. "That's not true, is that true?" she demanded.

Santana rolled her eyes and raised her gun. "I cannot wait for this to be over," she muttered. "Everyone's gone crazy." She cocked her gun and headed into the store, Brittany hot on her heels. "Don't drag me into this, I got enough problems."

"I am a doctor!" Quinn crouched down and slid on her heels and hands after Brittany into the store. "I know more about losing an eye than you do! You can't make shit like this up, Britt. Shit, its dark in here."

Kurt, Mercedes and Rachel watched as half their group descended into the depths of the store all gripping tightly onto each other while Santana toted her shotgun. Lord Tubbington silently followed behind them. They disappeared into the darkness, their sun bleached eyes unable to see any distinction beyond the shadow.

"I still don't know why we'd need magnets," Rachel whispered. No one explained.

* * *

#####

A bottle of water flew up out of the hole and smacked Kurt in his right eye. He rolled onto his back with his hand clutching his face and groaned as quietly as he could, rolling on his back like an overturned beetle. The bottle was quickly followed by three more of the silent missiles and then, an orange.

Inside the store Santana stood between Brittany and the crater with a glare that would shrivel the hardiest space worm if it dared stick its snout out of the dirt. She kept her gun trained on the ground while Quinn and Brittany hurriedly rummaged through the fallen shelves for food and water. A tap on her shoulder indicated they had enough supplies for now and Quinn began the climb up first followed by Santana with Brittany right next to her.

"Lord Tubbington!"

Brittany squeaked and scrambled toward the hole in the ground where her cat was casually investigating what could objectively be, under the layer of dust, a human finger. Santana reached for her arm and tugged her back just as the dirt began to cave down into the hole and three snake heads from a grub's tongue whipped out and wrapped around the cat dragging him completely under the sand in seconds. He had completely vanished.

Without hesitation Brittany lunged after him but a split second later Santana pounced on her back, knocking her off balance and they tumbled to the floor rolling on the scattered floorboards. Brittany was up and darted back to the hole in a heartbeat screaming into the pile of dirt left by the creature which had swallowed Lord Tubbington. She scooped the dirt with her bare hands digging frantically down until Quinn and Santana grabbed her arms and pulled her backwards.

"No!"

Her face was the picture of heartbreak and her chest wracked with sobs. Santana held her in a bear grip as Brittany sank to her knees and cried into Santana's arms.

Quinn edged warily to the edge of the pit trying to see if anything was visible. She held a can of beans at shoulder height ready to throw them at the first sign of danger. There was no further sign of life or, indeed, random body parts. Quinn slumped down next to Brittany and rubbed her back.

"There's no sign, B. I'm sorry."

Distraught by Brittany's cries Santana fired her shotgun into the crater and screamed into the void. "I hope he gives you the shits!"

Much to their alarm the ground began to rumble and the three women scrambled backwards up the debris pile. A mushroom cloud of dust was emitted from the crater then a loud noise, like a belch. All the humans stared at the activity emanating from the darkness and then a small wet furry projectile shot out of the hole like a cannonball and landed with a squelch on the ground next to Brittany.

Everyone stared in shock as Lord Tubbington uncurled himself and meowed pitifully at Brittany. She scooped him up still covered in goo and hugged him tightly.

"How fucking rude," Santana gasped, then shouted angrily into the hole. "That cat only eats from the gourmet section, I bet he tastes delicious!"

Quinn grabbed her and dragged her away, her other hand pulling at Brittany.

* * *

#######

Brittany sat cross legged on the roof with Lord Tubbington firmly ensconced in her arms. She glowered unseeing into the distance while the sound of munching and rustling accompanied her. Looking over at the group all stuffing themselves with liberated junk food she picked up the backpack they had used to collect supplies in and tipped it upright emptying out a lonely aerosol of antiperspirant.

"Look, it's getting a little ripe up here." Quinn answered her querying glance. "I wasn't going to say anything but just leave it lying around so some people could take the hint."

"You best not be talking about me," warned Santana. Quinn shoved an entire snickers bar in her mouth and shrugged.

Mercedes leaned over and sniffed Kurt suspiciously.

"How do you smell so good?" She asked accusingly. "And coconutty."

"I found some car air fresheners. I've got one under each armpit."

Brittany deftly plopped Lord Tubbington inside the empty pack and he wriggled about for a moment then quite happily stuck his head out so he could see over Brittany's shoulder.

"That's it!" she announced. "We're getting out of here. We can't wait for Sue any longer. I'm going to get the 'Dozer'. Those worms can't swallow twelve tonnes of steel. It's still got the bucket attached off of last trash collection day. You can ride in the bucket. I'm going to need you to distract them until I can get to it."

Everyone looked at Santana.

"Where are the keys?" she asked, wary of this plan putting Brittany in danger, again.

"In the machine."

"You left them in there? Someone could have stolen it!"

"It goes 15mph full out. I'd have caught anyone who tried to pinch it by running after them. I need you to start up Finn's truck and send it off in the opposite direction to the Dozer. Rachel, you want to drive?" Brittany smirked.

Rachel emitted an eep.

"We can pin the gas pedal with some wood," Quinn mused. "Unless you want to drive, Rach?"

"Rachel drives like an old woman," Mercedes snorted. "That thing would catch her before she left the towns limits."

"I'll do it," Quinn offered. "Set it off, I mean, not drive it. Santana can cover me good with that spud gun and you three better pull me back up out of there faster than a hot turd."

Santana stood dusting off Brittany's shoulders and trying and failing to hide her worry. "Do you want me to take the cat?"

"No, but thanks anyway. We're going to stick together like glue from now on."

"Be careful." Santana leaned over and kissed Brittany on the cheek. To her delight Brittany blushed then fiddled about adjusting her cap trying not to appear flustered. Santana reached over behind Brittany and zipped Lord Tubbington up tightly so he couldn't fall or wriggle out of the backpack.

"Thanks," Brittany whispered.

"You're welcome," Santana smiled.

"Break it up, lovebirds. We're going fishing," Mercedes called then threw some cable at Santana. "String up the line."

Brittany climbed over to her side of the roof and waited by the drainpipe for her signal to run.

The rest of the gang roped together a dozen empty cans to string from the back of the truck then lowered Quinn and Santana onto the porch roof at the front of the store. Quinn jumped onto the truck while Santana covered her with the gun.

"It's pointing the wrong way." Quinn whisper shouted to Santana.

"What?"

"The truck," Quinn said in a hoarse whisper and emphasised with some strange kind of sign language using her arms, "is pointing the wrong way."

"I am four feet away from you why are you being weird?" Santana asked.

"What's she saying?" Rachel called down to them. Santana gave a vicious hand gesture to shut up.

"Put it in reverse, dipshit," Santana whispered harshly back.

"Oh," Quinn chuckled. "Yeah."

As delicately as possible Quinn tied the cans to the front of the truck then slowly climbed over the truck to get in the driver's window. She tied the steering wheel in position with Kurt's studded leather belt then sat ready to turn the key. She looked up at Santana with the three stooges behind her silhouetted on the roof.

"Ready." Santana mouthed the word at her.

"It's pickling time," Quinn said under her breath and started the truck. The floorboards in the store began to rumble as the grub moved to investigate the noise. Quinn moved the lever from parked to neutral then jammed a board between the pedal and the seat. Her last act before exiting through the window was to kick the lever into reverse. She kicked off from the window frame grasping one hand for the porch and another for Santana's outstretched arms as the truck pulled away. Quinn dangled silently not daring to breathe until a wave of the decking flowed along the store front following the truck which was already almost off the road. Santana dragged her onto the porch overhang and they watched as the truck left the road a hundred yards away. It carried on through the grassy tussocks and uneven dirt bouncing and jolting around.

"Go!" Santana yelled up at the watchers on the roof. Mercedes turned to shout to Brittany for her to run but she was nowhere to be seen. They ran to the opposite side of the roof to see Brittany already a third of the way to the bulldozer, running like the wind.

Once back on the main roof Santana didn't know where to look. In one direction puffs off dust erupted out of the ground on a course following the truck. In the other Brittany jumped obstacles and kicked up a dust trail like she was auditioning for ninja warrior.

Quinn slapped her with a loose backhand in the boob and she turned furiously only to watch in horror as the truck hit a sloping boulder. The nearside ran up the rock until the momentum caused the whole truck to flip over onto its side then onto the roof where it stayed, wheels still spinning in the air.

The dust trail stopped next to the truck then within seconds started up again moving back towards the town.

Fuck.

"Run, Britt. It's coming!" Quinn screamed. "Run!"

The rest of the gang joined in sending the warning to Brittany who was now two thirds of the way to the bulldozer.

"That's fast," Kurt looked horrified and Mercedes winced at the speed of the creature as the dust trail bypassed the store and headed straight for the runner.

Brittany reached the vehicle with seconds to spare. Sweat rolled down her back and she gulped in air as she sat on the seat of the open cab trying to keep quiet but breathe huge chest rolling breaths at the same time.

Snake like tongues poked out of the ground and felt around clunking against the caterpillar tracks. From her shoulders, Lord Tubbington, thoroughly shaken up, hissed his disapproval at the situation.

From the roof, Santana watched as Brittany waved back at her and scrubbed the tear tracks down her dusty face.

"It's fine," she croaked, as she turned down Kurt's offer of his blood splattered sleeve. "Dust in my eyes."

"Well I hope after all that kerfuffle the vehicle actually starts," said Rachel.

Quinn glared at her.

Kurt nudged Rachel in warning. "Of course it'll start."

Smoke belched out of the exhaust and the engine roared to life enraging the grub which burst out of the ground and reared at the bulldozer. Brittany lifted the front loader aiming to smack the grub with it but incensed it further when it couldn't land a bite on the steel bucket. Brittany reversed the machine keeping the bucket as a shield between her and the beast and slowly began the crawl back to town.

It seemed an eternity but eventually the bucket was lifted up to the roof of the Store and Santana elbowed Rachel sharply out of the way to be the first to climb over to get to the cab. She slung her arm around Brittany's shoulders and perched on the arm of the driver's seat.

"Hi," Brittany said with a grin. "Taxi for Ms. Lopez."

Santana sighed with relief. "Hi," she beamed back.

"Are they always like this?" Kurt asked. The four forgotten survivors all leaned on the rim of the bucket watching the reunion in the cab.

"Yes," said Quinn. "Always." And threw an empty water bottle at them. "What now, fearless leader?" she asked Brittany.

"Now we head for the lowest part of the pass and hope these caterpillar tracks will get us over it. While trying not to get poached by a space worm."

* * *

####

The dozer trundled along at what appeared to be a leisurely pace. To everyone's extreme disturbance the grub burst out at them periodically trying to snatch a snack on the move. Santana shot at it, Kurt poked it with a pointy stick, Rachel screamed and cowered in the bottom of the bucket and Mercedes stabbed it with a steak knife. But Brittany had been right all along and the twelve tonnes of solid steel was like an armoured vehicle and the grub could do nothing but snap at it.

"Can this thing go any faster?"

"We're going 8mph, Rachel. What more do you want?"

"To go faster. To go fast enough to get a bit of a breeze in my hair."

"If I went any faster you'd fly out of that bucket like a catapult and right into the mandibles of death."

"It's just if that thing jumps out one more time I'm going to pee myself."

"You'd better not!" Mercedes warned her. "This bucket is cramped as it is and smells faintly of garbage, you don't need to make it worse."

"I have to pee too," Quinn admitted. "It was the second can of cherry coke that's done it."

"Don't blame my produce," said Santana. "You should all have gone before we left the store. Now you can just pee on each other."

They all screamed as the grub exploded out of the ground in front of them showering them in dirt. The dozer jolted as Brittany stopped the forward momentum and began evasive manoeuvres.

Santana raised her shotgun and aimed as they tried to drive around the flailing grub.

"Eat shot, Shit head," she snarled and fired at its head.

There was a loud popping noise then a whine and a wet slapping sound. The grub flopped to the ground. Everyone stopped and stared at it confusion. There was a gaping hole through its body where you could have considered its head to be. They looked from the shotgun to Santana and then to the grub in amazement.

"Uhhh…."

"What the hell?"

A crackling static noise emitted in the air for a second and then a harsh authoritative voice resounded.

"Attention, hobos. The motherfucking cavalry is here."

Bearing down on them was a red and white painted tank.


End file.
